A SunnySide Up Prime Party Extravaganza
by brainenuggets
Summary: G1- Upon hearing that Optimus feels a little unloved, Sideswipe decides to throw a surprise party for him. Why not get Prowl involved in his shenanigans? Sequel to Do They Like Me?


**A sequel to "Do They Like Me?" as suggested by Elita-three.**

* * *

"So, you hear about what happened in the rec. room earlier?" asked the red one, his optics glued to the bottom portion of the monitor as he made his character speed through the obstacles on the track, throwing the occasional banana peel at one of his competitors.

Sunstreaker frowned when his racer of choice slid over the discarded fruit and rammed into a wall. "What'd you do?"

"Why do you always assume I did something?" Sideswipe said with a frown.

Sunstreaker only cast him a half bored, half incredulous sneer.

"It was Prime," Sideswipe continued, completely ignoring the look. "He was talking to Prowl and Prowl started yelling and I think he was gonna flip the table." "Is that supposed to be news?"

Sideswipe smiled at that. "He went off on Prime about how people liked him and stuff."

"So?"

The red Lamborghini paused their game and looked at his twin. "Prime thinks people don't like him, Sunny."

Sunstreaker blinked. "And?"

A look of determination settled into his optics. Cold. Hard. A little too much like Prowl, Sunstreaker thought.

Sideswipe put the game controller down and crossed his arms. "Bro. We're gonna throw us a Prime Party."

Sunstreaker rolled his optics. "You're too into this."

"A SunnySide Prime Party."

"That... That's just no."

"A SunnySide Up Prime Party."

Sunstreaker buried his face in his servos. "Are you done yet?"

"A SunnySide Up Prime Part Extravaganza!"

Sunstreaker got up to leave.

"Complete with confetti, streamers and a ball pit. We'll make a banner of his face and a piñata that looks like Megatron for him to bash." He bounced a little at the thought. "Oh! And we can have some kind of obstacle race and rig it so that the loser, who will be Prowl, gets a truckload of glitter dumped on him! Ha! He'll be picking that stuff out of his joins for weeks! Doesn't that sound great, Sunny?"

Silence.

"Sunny?" Sideswipe looked around the room and found that his twin had vanished. He looked at the game still paused on the monitor. "So you leaving means I won, right?" He smiled to himself. "Winner."

* * *

"I gotta admit, Prowler," Jazz said, admiring the intricate, paper decoration in the rec. room. "I'm a little surprised you decided to let Sides go through with his plan."

Prowl picked up one of the confetti bits that had been precariously cut into a perfectly scaled replica of the Prime's silhouette and tossed it to the side. "Prime deserves to have his troops' appreciation shown. He works hard."

Jazz shrugged. "We don't get parties."

Prowl nodded. "You _are_ a party."

"And the only party _you'll_ ever need," the head of Spec Ops said, nudging Prowl in the side.

"Why do you have to go and make things weird?"

Jazz laughed at that. "So. You plannin' on explainin' why OP's in such need of a great, big, Autobot bear hug or are you still playin' the 'I know something you don't know' game?"

The Tactician crossed his arms. "Hm. What do you think?" he asked with a smirk.

"I think I'm this close to punchin' you in the face, Prowler."

Sideswipe walked into the room at that point, clapping his servos together and yelling for everyone's attention. Optimus had been convinced to go on patrol with Hound and would be returning shortly. Everything had to be perfect.

"Energon ready, Bee?" A quick thumbs up from the minibot and Sideswipe turned his attention to the decorations. "Lookin' good in here, Blaster. Warpath! I'm loving that piñata! Ah, Mirage, Ironhide, I just got back from the obstacle course. You've outdone yourselves." He looked at Jazz. "Jazz, my mech! I know you've got the music portion of the evening covered."

Jazz grinned, holding up a data slug. "Brother, I got enough tunes to rock us through this and every night for the next millennium."

Sideswipe's optics sparkled. "This party is gonna rock!"

Prowl raised an optic ridge at him.

"Oh, hey, Prowl," the Lamborghini said with a smirk. "Hope you're ready for a crazy, awesome day."

"You're plotting."

Jazz rolled his optics behind his visor. "Prowl, he's doin' a good thing. Don't turn this into somethin' it's not."

"No, no, he's right," Sideswipe said. "I am plotting. See, everyone thinks Prowl is just sooo good at everything he does because of his fancy-shmancy logic junk, but I'm going to prove in the obstacle race that guys like me are worth ten of him when it comes to action."

Prowl frowned. "My 'fancy-shmancy logic junk,' as you so inadequately explain it is the only reason guys like you are still alive. You jump into a fight without considering what or who might be at stake. You get banged up to the point of having to literally be dragged off the battle field and back to base while I make critical calculations on how to put an end to what you start with as few casualties as possible. I then return to write up reports on the day's events and am met with Ratchet's enraged yelling in my audials about how I should do a better job of keeping my Autobots out of harms way along with a plethora of ridiculous questions and comments from a handful of your unnamed affiliates on the status of your care, because Ratchet refuses to talk to them while he pounds dents out of you. I take care of things. I get the job done. I clean up your mess."

"I don't need your help."

"You, in fact, do."

Jazz tried to suppress his grin.

"Prove it," Sideswipe challenged. "Me and Sunstreaker against you and Jazz in the race. Losers will be the personal slaves of the winners for the next three weeks."

A pause.

"Hey, now!" Jazz said, seeing that Prowl was actually considering the proposal. "Don't go draggin' me into this."

"Oh?" Prowl offered him a blank look. "Is the big, bad head of Special Operations afraid he might lose to a nobody like Sideswipe?"

Jazz frowned. Taking Prowl by the door wing, he dragged his friend to the side and spoke quietly. "Y'know Sides is plannin' somethin'. Why're you playin' along here?"

"Simple. I'm better than him."

Jazz stared. "Unbelievable."

"Everybody get down!" Sunstreaker said, running into the room. "Prime's coming!"

The Autobots gathered in the center of the room and squatted down low. All except for Prowl, that is. He stood where he had been, arms crossed over his chest with a slightly amused look on his face.

The lights were turned off and an attempted silence filtered through the room.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

They could hear muffled voices outside the door. Jazz met his gaze with Blaster's and the two of them shared a smirk. Apparently, Hound was having a hard time convincing Optimus to go into the rec. room and Optimus was having a harder time accepting that the majority of his soldiers were not at their posts. But in the end, the door did open and-

"SURPRIIIIISE!"

Optimus stood frozen and wide-opticed as the Autobots cheered for him. He looked between a beaming Hound and smiling Prowl in confusion as everyone burst into a round of "For he's a jolly good fellow." The song ended with another round of cheering and the entire Autobot earth force descending on him with handshakes, pats on the back and smiling faces. They pulled him all over the room showing him the decorations, drinks, snacks, games and the bright, red and yellow SunnySide Up Prime Party Extravaganza banner while showering him with well wishes, appreciative thoughts and encouraging words.

After about fifteen minutes, the Prime finally relaxed and all could see by the gleam in his optics that behind his mask was probably one of the biggest smiles he had ever worn.

* * *

"One more game, Prime," Sideswipe announced, clapping his servos together to get people's attention. He directed them out of the rec. room and just outside the base where an elaborate obstacle course had been set up to test one's strength, stamina, ingenuity, creativity and overall awesomeness. High beams, hurtles, mud pits, hoops and a plethora of team related challenges littered the ground in a racetrack pattern.

Sunstreaker stepped up to his brother's side and explained, "The track is built for three team of two to compete at a time." He frowned at the mud pit and shot Sideswipe a look. "You'll be timed and scored by our judges, Ratchet, Wheeljack, Perceptor and Red Alert. The team with the highest score at the end of every round will move on to the next."

"Last team standing wins," Sideswipe finished. He winked and everyone assumed he was merely excited for the games to come, though Jazz and Prowl knew very well it was intended for them.

Jazz looked at Prowl's black face and sighed. "Challenge accepted, eh?"

The police care dipped his helm just barely.

* * *

Optimus, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe lined up at their mark for the final round of the game. They were covered in dried mud and clay and their bodies were exhausted from the afternoon's activities, but their optics were wide with determination and their focus fixed on the finish line.

Sunstreaker brushed a few flecks of dirt off his arm and sent a wave of frustration through his and Sideswipe's bond. The red Lambo rolled his optics and then turned a snarky gaze to his team's competitors.

Prowl met his optics with an icy, blank stare. His doorwings flicked and bits of dirt and debris fell from their joints.

Jazz stood beside him, a joyous smile on his face as he revved himself up for the last leg of the race. It didn't surprise him that it had come down to himself, Prowl and Mirage against the twins and Optimus. And it wouldn't surprise him if his team ended up being sabotaged in order to fix the race.

He glanced at Mirage.

Wheeljack stood just ahead of them, flag raised high. "You guys ready?" They turned their optics to him. "Aaaand GO!" He dropped the flag and the six remaining Autobots in the race took off.

They hurtled their bodies through the air and over a trench, transformed to speed in and out of swinging logs, rounded the first corner and went back to bipedal to jump into a pit of slime and search for the puzzle pieces needed to form a key in order to unlock a blockade that had been made to keep them from continuing the race.

The two teams plunged their arms down into the slime feeling around desperately for the pieces and, after about ten seconds, Sideswipe looked up at Optimus and said, "Hey, Prime. I know you're not a big fan of—let's call it bending the rules—but," he looked over at the blockade. "We could easily-"

"Jump it," Optimus said with a nod. He wasn't finishing the sentence. He was giving a command.

Sunstreaker smirked and leaped out of the pit. He offered a servo to the Prime. "Didn't peg you for a cheater."

Optimus' optics sparkled with the grin that formed behind his mask. "Sunstreaker, you have no idea."

Team SunnySide Prime ran to the barrier and vaulted over it with easy, grinning cheekily as they did so. Prowl looked up and dropped his jaw for only a moment before following suit.

"Come on!" he ordered his team. Jazz and Mirage shared a look. Surely Prowl knew this was rigged. But they followed anyway.

Upon clearing their largest hurdle, Team Rockin' Ghost Cop (not Prowl's first choice in names) caught sight of their opponents running for the Megatron piñata at the finish line. Prowl dropped into vehicle mode and raced after them. He revved his engines when Sideswipe actually dared to slow down and wait for him.

Prime and Sunstreaker darted ahead, offering each other knowing looks, while Jazz and Mirage tried to look like they were in a hurry to catch up.

Something just wasn't right.

Prowl slowed as he approached the now trotting Sideswipe and transformed. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for you," Sideswipe said derisively. "We doing this or not?"

Prowl looked him over. He knew Sideswipe had something planned. He was Prowl. He always knew. But something about the smarmy grin on the warrior's face urged him to continue in the race. "I expect you have something planned. Some trick or prank you will be trying to pull."

Sideswipe shook his helm. "Nope. Race to the finish line. No tricks. No stunts. Just me showing you up and you walking away with your injured pride."

Prowl frowned.

"And Prime gets to have a fun day with no write-ups, court-martials or brig sentencing."

Prowl though about it. "You actually mean that."

"Cross my spark."

"Very well, then." The SIC and dropped into a readied stance and Sideswipe followed suit. "On your mark."

Sideswipe grinned at him. "Get set."

They bolted, first at a run then dropping into vehicle mode. A cloud of dust kicked up in their wake as they raced neck-in-neck for the finish line. Prowl growled as Sideswipe managed to pull ahead.

He would not be beaten.

* * *

Jazz and Mirage slowed to watch the dueling bots in amusement. "Prowl knows something's up, right?" Mirage asked.

Jazz thought about that. "Probably. But the dude's too hung up on beating Sides right now."

They noticed Sunstreaker had pulled off to the side to let his brother pass. The yellow Lamborghini transformed and turned around to offer them a knowing look. "This outta be good," he called over a private comm.

"What're you two planning?" Mirage asked.

Sunstreaker smirked. "Not us two." He glanced at the finish line. "Those two."

Jazz looked ahead and laughed out loud.

* * *

Sideswipe was only inches ahead of him on purpose. He was silently mocking his superior officer and Prowl simply would not stand for that. He gave it all he had and managed to tie himself with the speedster once more.

The finish line was in sight. Just a little more speed. Just a few more seconds.

Sideswipe hit his brakes and skidded to a stop, leaving Prowl with a sudden, sinking feeling of regret. He transformed, sliding and clawing against the dirt in an attempt to stop, but was too late.

A cloud of shining light blinded him momentarily before settling over his frame and sticking to every joint and crevice. He was very much aware of the cackling coming from behind him and the smugness radiating from both Sideswipe's and Sunstreaker's energy fields. But there was a third energy he was reading.

Prowl rubbed his optics, clearing the debris, and looking up into the jubilant gaze of his leader.

Prime held an empty container over Prowl's head, a container with the word GLITTER painted on the side. The executive officer looked over his body and the disgustingly, shiny flecks that had made their home on his plating.

He frowned.

"You outrank me."

"I do," the Prime said with a laugh.

Prowl turned his helm toward Sideswipe and glared. "No write-ups. No court-martials. No brig sentencing," he quoted back to the warrior.

Sideswipe grinned. "And Prime had fun. As promised."

Jazz, Mirage and Sunstreaker joined them, giggling like idiots as Jazz helped Prowl to his shiny feet. "That's not comin' off any time soon, Prowler."

"You do look fabulous, though," Sunstreaker said with a smirk.

"Good going, Prime," Mirage praised. "I didn't think you had that in you."

They all shared another laugh and Prowl didn't even attempt to mask his anger. Upon seeing how happy Optimus was, however, he decided to let the whole ordeal go. This time.

The SunnySide Up Prime Party Extravaganza had served its purpose and the entire Autobot earth based team had had a day of rejuvenation.

It wasn't really all that bad.

Jazz suddenly broke into a run, yelling that no one had actually crossed the finish line yet.

Everyone bolted.

* * *

Ravage and Laserbeak shared a look as they watched the Autobots return to their posts from their perch on the cliff.

"Bots are weird," Laserbeak said.

"But entertaining," Ravage replied. "We should show this to Rumble and Frenzy. They'll get a kick out of it."

"And Skywarp. He'll post it all over the Decepticon database. Spread a little cheer in the ranks."

The Cassetticons slunk away from their hiding place and ran back for their base, both secretly wondering if their Commanders might agree to having their own, friendly game day.

Though neither would admit it.


End file.
